


Life Is More than Who We Are

by sperrywink



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Mathematics, Mostly Fluff, Some angst, no powers except Tony Stark’s brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5472650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink/pseuds/sperrywink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is forced into having a new assistant. He picks the least likely candidate.</p><p>For wrensreblogthings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Is More than Who We Are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MassiveSpaceWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/gifts).



> Written for [wrensreblogthings](http://wrensreblogthings.tumblr.com/) for the [WinterIron Holiday Exchange](http://winterironholidayexchange.tumblr.com/) over on Tumblr. Wrensreblogthings mentioned bodyguards and science-y things in their requests. This is not a bodyguard story or a true science story, but is what came to mind when I read those ideas. I hope you enjoy it, wrensreblogthings!
> 
> Title from The Goo Goo Dolls song _Name._

Like most of Tony’s questionable ideas, it came to him while drunk. Letters and numbers were swimming, and he wondered at finally being too drunk to solve an equation. He then remembered the whole slew of PhDs that was his R&D Department, and he figured they could finally be useful for something. Unfortunately he was in Malibu, they were in New York, and it was, huh, one in the morning. 

Too juiced up to wait, Tony did what he always did. Go bigger or go home. He created a website on the SI intranet devoted to solving equations with cash prizes and points. When he finally crashed at six, he was now sober enough to solve his own equation, but left up the website out of curiosity.

It took three days before anyone noticed, which made Tony roll his eyes, and the first answer to the equation solved it correctly, but used a roundabout method of tenth grade trigonometry and blunt force. Elegance was not to be found. He gave points for the correct answer, but took them all away for everything else, scribbling a scathing critique throughout. He made note of the SI Personal Identification Number- 107511. He would have to remember to mock their PhD at the next R&D departmental meeting.

It took another ten days before anyone else noticed, which made Tony question the whole department’s intelligence, and then it was game on. Answers came fast and furious. Only one or two were worthy, and Tony also made note of those SI Personal Identification Numbers. Made sense to track the good and the bad. He was surprised he hadn’t thought of this before. He put up a second equation; one he had already solved, but one he figured it would be a good exercise for the department.

Months passed like this, Tony playing with the website when he was bored or drunk, putting up equations and writing critiques, both good and bad. 107511 answered every challenge. Slowly their answers grew more complex, and their percentage of correct answers got better and better, and Tony actually enjoyed seeing their development over time. Maybe this was how professors felt?

The first time 107511 used Lagrangian mechanics to solve an equation, Tony blinked. Hard. Now this was finally getting interesting. He still ripped them a new one, but he softened it at the end with a “Nice use of D’Alembert’s principle.” He put up a related equation as the next one, just to see if it was a fluke.

They answered that one correctly too, again using more advanced mathematics than when they had started out. It even had a hint of elegance. At least he now knew they weren’t stupid, and could actually learn. Maybe they were just a technician? Anyway, he had hope for his R&D department after all.

More than a year later, Tony was now based in New York, because the Mandarin sunk his Malibu home. Bastard. Pepper was in his workshop bugging him about hiring another assistant, but he was barely listening. She had assigned him one from the R&D department when he first moved to New York, but they had left in tears after four hours. What a wimp. Tony’s eyes drifted to his holographic interface with his current project, and Pepper snapped her fingers in his face. “Eyes over here, Tony. You can’t handle everything yourself, and I don’t have the time. Neither does Happy.”

Pouting at Pepper, Tony asked, “But they’re all mediocre.”

“They’re the best of the best. Make do.” Pepper gave him a stern look, and as her parting words she said, “I expect a name by five.” She then swept out, and Tony couldn’t help but admire her ass. He and Pepper were long over, but that didn’t mean he was blind.

Pepper’s visit disrupted Tony’s flow, so he wandered over to the equation website and started checking out the SI Personal Identification Numbers that were the top scorers. At the number ten spot was 107511. Huh. Last he had checked they were ranked seventeen. They must have made great strides in the last couple of months. Curious, he went through their work from the beginning. He scoffed at their early efforts, but was heartened by the way they seemed to take his critiques as challenges, instead of crumbling under them. Everything he mentioned specifically as lacking, they eventually began to use correctly in later equations. 

They had also never missed solving one. Tony could get behind that kind of dedication, although he wondered what he was paying them to do, if they could solve all the equations on company time. Making up his mind, just before five, Tony sent Pepper 107511 as the SI Personal Identification Number of his new assistant.

Pepper wrote back, “I don’t know if this is a joke or what, but I don’t care. I’m sending them up now.”

Tony rubbed his hands together. He was actually kind of excited to meet 107511 now. He could find out what kind of Cracker Jack box their PhD had come from. The elevator doors slid open and out walked a security guard, looking just as confused as Tony felt. He had dark brown hair pulled back and a prosthetic left arm, which made Tony’s eyebrow raise. He also had an air of danger about him, moving with the power of a jungle cat, which was hysterically incongruous with the ill-fitting security guard uniform. Tony raised his other eyebrow.

The security guard came up to the glass doors of Tony’s workshop and gave a little wave. Jarvis opened the doors for him, and he walked over to Tony’s workbench, stopping uncertainly a couple feet way. He said, “Uh, Ms. Potts said you wanted to see me, sir?”

Tony blinked first. “No, I wanted to see 107511.”

“Right,” the security guard said, just standing there. He was looking at Tony like he was an idiot.

Not used to feeling stupid, Tony made the incongruous leap, and went with it. He pulled a holographic interface forward, looked again at the security guard, and then wrote a new equation on it. “Solve that.”

“Sir?”

Tony tapped the interface with the tip of his finger, making little dots appear, and repeated himself. “Solve that, 107511.”

“If this is about the intranet site, no one said I couldn’t solve the equations. I didn’t slouch on my duties, no matter what Markham says.”

“I have no idea what petty security guard politics you’re babbling about, and care even less. I want you to solve that equation. Now. Come on; unless you can’t?” Tony smirked in his most annoying manner. The one that he knew always made Pepper’s palm itch to slap him.

The security guard glared at him, and defiantly brushed by Tony to see the interface. The slight press sent a tingle down Tony’s arm and side. He didn’t know if it was the touch, or watching the security guard move with controlled fury. It was poetry in motion, but the concise and striking kind of poetry, not some wandering epic. He shook his head. Maybe he needed to sleep. He had been working for twenty-seven hours. Might be the only excuse he had for thinking about movement and poetry. 

The security guard didn’t seem to notice, he was writing furiously, his lip caught in his teeth. It took ten minutes and a false start that the security guard had to erase, but he didn’t ask for help, and he solved the equation correctly. When he was done, he put his hand on his hip, and stared Tony down. 

Tony appreciated his moxie for, oh, a second, and then he started ripping the solution apart line by line. What was acceptable, what could have taken one step instead of five, what were the worst parts of it. The security guard stood there, and took it all, staring Tony down. At the end, Tony asked, “Any questions?”

The security guard looked at Tony, looked at the equation and his solution with Tony’s notations, then back at Tony. Straightening his posture, he said, “I don’t know what a Stratonovich integral is.”

Tony nodded. He pointed to the solution, about halfway down. “See this here? That’s a Stratonovich integral. I’ll quiz you on its properties and uses tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? You mean I’m not fired?” The security guard finally lost some of his posturing, as he slumped in relief.

“Of course not. You’re my new assistant. Be here at nine.” Tony thought about that. “Better make it ten. I never get in that early unless I’m up all night.”

Looking stunned, the security guard’s mouth dropped open. It snapped shut, and then he asked, “What?”

Tony waved him towards the exit, as he brought him up to speed. “Look, you’ll probably be no help at all, but you don’t shrink from criticism, and you seem intelligent-ish. You’ll do until you quit, and, bonus, you’ll piss off the R&D Department. They’ve obviously been slacking off if you’re number ten in the rankings.”

The security guard straightened up, but let Tony herd him towards the elevator. “Hey! There’s no ish about my intelligence, bud!”

The security guard was now in the elevator, and Tony said, “We’ll see. By the way, what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you 107511, unless you like that kind of thing. No judgment here.”

“Bucky.”

As the doors closed, Tony mumbled to himself, “What the hell kind of name is Bucky?”

* * *

* * *

Tony went to bed, but woke up at five with the solution to the flight stabilizer improvements he was doing. He went down to his workshop and began work.

When Bucky appeared a couple hours later, Tony was surprised since he had forgotten all about him. Bucky looked uncertain standing in the doorway in an even more ill-fitting black suit than the security guard uniform had been, but he had coffee, so Tony decided to let him stay. He took it, sipping in delight at the great flavor, while Bucky glared at him. Looking at the suit again, Tony said, “Oh, hell no! Take that off. You look like an undertaker, and a poorly paid one at that. This is a workshop, not a funeral home.”

Bucky replied, “That was my coffee.”

“Not any more it isn’t. Come on, chop, chop. Take off that awful suit.” Tony used his free hand to tug at the lapel of the suit, and Bucky turned, letting the jacket be stripped off him rather than letting Tony pull him down. His shirt was just as bad; almost clear with age, and straining tight across the shoulders. Tony waved at Bucky’s entire torso. “That too. God, who dressed you? I guess we have to leave the pants, but this whole suit is tragic. It’s actually a mercy getting grease on it.”

Sarcastically, Bucky said, “I’m sorry we all can’t afford thousand dollar suits,” but he still began slowly undoing his tie, and unbuttoning the shirt. He struggled out of it, which is what reminded Tony of his prosthetic arm. Tony could see his powerful shoulders, and the straps holding his prosthetic tight across them. The scars were mostly obscured.

Ideas to improve the design flickered through Tony’s brain, but then he got distracted by the wide expanse of body revealed. Bucky’s other arm had defined muscles under smooth skin, and Tony could see his rippling abs through the tight, thin wifebeater. He subconsciously licked his lip, and when he looked up at Bucky’s face, Bucky was giving him an unamused look. Tony said, “If you object to objectification, you should quit now.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky replied, “I think I can handle it for a quadruple increase in pay.”

“Holy shit, really? How little were we paying you as a security guard? Never mind, I don’t care.” Tony moved his hands, pulling yesterday’s holographic display with the equation and its solution back into prominence. “So I can spare ten minutes. Stratonovich’s integrals- what can you tell me?”

Bucky started talking and asking questions, and it wasn’t until an hour later when Pepper showed up to complain about him missing a meeting that they stopped. Without missing a beat, Tony said, “It’s his fault! I told you an assistant was a waste of time.”

Bucky pushed him lightly, and said, “Hey! Nice way to throw me under the bus.”

Tony grinned at Bucky, and it wasn’t until Pepper coughed to get their attention that he realized they had been staring at each other. They both shuffled their feet like little kids called to the principal’s office, and Pepper sighed. She handed Bucky a tablet, and said, “You couldn’t have known. Here’s Tony’s schedule. Try to get him to as many meetings as you can, and all those highlighted in red. That’s all I ask.”

“Yes, mam.”

“It’s Pepper. We’ll be working closely together.”

‘Yes, mam, er, Pepper.” Bucky awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, but smiled gamely at her. Pepper sighed again, and with one final warning look for Tony, swept out of the workshop.

Tony looked at Bucky. He said, “Ass-kisser.”

Bucky shrugged more easily now. “Have I mentioned the quadruple pay? I don’t want to mess this up. Steve and I could use the extra money.”

“Steve?”

“My best friend. I’ve been staying with him since I got out of the service.”

Bucky lit up when he talked about Steve, and rhetorically Tony asked, “Best friend or boyfriend?” He was already tuning back to his stabilizers and the work that was waiting for him, not willing to figure out why he felt so disgruntled all of a sudden.

Bucky just kicked at his foot with an easy smile, and Tony huffed out a laugh. Bucky asked, “Anything I can do to help, or shall I look over what’s in the tablet?”

“Better look over the tablet, or Pepper will be pissed.”

“On it.”

* * *

* * *

Tony was surprised when he and Bucky settled into an easy rhythm even more quickly than he and Pepper had when she started as his assistant. Bucky was a hard-ass about the appointments that Pepper earmarked as important, but he helped Tony avoid all the rest. He started bringing two coffees, and on the bad days gave both of them to Tony. He even began to be a bigger help in the workshop as time went on.

He was already a pretty good mechanic, it was just the electronics and robotics he had to catch up on. Tony pointed him towards the appropriate references, and Bucky picked up the math quickly, particularly since the problem Tony assigned to Bucky was designing a new prosthetic arm. His progress proved to be astounding given the right motivation. He had a new arm, helped by Tony’s genius and resources, within four months. Both their names went onto the patent. This was all especially remarkable since apparently his degree was in Russian literature. Tony shuddered even thinking about it.

Probably the most astounding part of their relationship was how Tony gave into Bucky’s demands for meetings and signatures. It was almost like having Pepper again, except Bucky was more likely to smirk and take the piss out of him than she had been. She was the master of the condescending look, while Bucky was instead there with a quick quip and a gentle shove. Tony actually found the manhandling hot.

What he didn’t find hot was the continuing tragic state of Bucky’s wardrobe. 

Today Bucky had come in wearing yet another too-tight-in-the-shoulders, poorly made shirt. Tony couldn’t keep silent. He asked, “So where did today’s sartorial choices come from?” 

Bucky gave him a look, but answered. “Three-packs were on sale at K-Mart.”

Tony threw up his arms. “Three-packs, really? Really? I am putting a moratorium on both K-Mart and three-packs. Just say no, Bucky!”

“Not all of us can afford Macy’s.” Bucky crossed his arm across his chest, the prosthetic following a beat behind. Tony made a mental note to work with Bucky to improve that.

Out loud, he said, “Quadruple increase in pay, remember?”

“Steve’s art school tuition was due. We didn’t take out any loans this time. Still can’t afford Macy’s.”

Tony had had enough. “Okay, first of all, who decided Macy’s was the height of fashion? Second of all, I don’t care what you say, we’re going to my tailor.”

“Oh, no, we’re not.” Unfortunately Bucky had a good three inches on him and another thirty pounds. When Tony pulled on his arm, he just dug in his heels, and they stayed where they were. Tony huffed out in frustration. He stopped tugging, and crossed his arms. Bucky, the little asshole, smirked at him. Wanting to stick his tongue out at him, but trying to be more mature than that, Tony said, “Okay, how about this. You had to wear a uniform to be a security guard, right?”

“I know where you’re going with this, and it’s not the same.”

“It’s totally the same! Tony Stark’s assistant can’t be seen wearing K-Mart three-pack shirts! Do you think Pepper ever wore three-pack shirts?”

Bucky’s defiant expression wavered, and Tony knew he had an in. He continued. “That’s right. You are in Pepper’s old position, and she was always dressed appropriately.”

“I doubt Pepper ever got greasy in the workshop.”

“Well, no, but she did accompany me to events and meetings, and there she always looked professional. I change when we go out. Why shouldn’t you?”

Bucky bit his lip, and his shoulders hunched. Mentally Tony cheered. He knew he had won. Bucky said, “We really did spend all our money on Steve’s tuition.”

Tony was quick to jump in. “Not a problem. Consider this a bonus, or me providing you with the appropriate work uniform. You can even keep your suits here if that makes them seem more a part of work, and you can wear your three-pack shirts at home.”

Bucky laughed. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in these shirts at home.”

Tony ushered him into the elevator to go to his tailor’s all the while cursing him out. Bucky just laughed harder.

* * *

* * *

Tony didn’t realize his mistake in getting Bucky kitted out in proper fitting clothes until the first time he changed into his new clothes as they were heading to a board meeting. He came out looking like all of Tony’s wet dreams combined. He could actually feel himself get light-headed watching Bucky walk down the hallway towards him with grace and power in the silky suit.

As Bucky came abreast of him, he could see Bucky giving him a questioning look so he covered his distraction with a workshop question, which they discussed all the way to the board meeting, and actually managing to distract Tony from his desire, thankfully.

He remembered the disaster that was him and Pepper after they split up. It had taken months for them to become friends again. Nearly a year. He didn’t know if he could do it again. As the board meeting dragged on, his thoughts circled around it. He didn’t just find Bucky hot, if that was the case they could fuck and get it out of their systems, but he liked Bucky a lot, which made everything more fraught. 

It was nice having an assistant who helped in the workshop, and wasn’t just there to drag him to meetings. Bucky was a quick study, if not a genius, and he wasn’t afraid to ask questions. Tony’s sniping and criticism didn’t deter him, and Tony could tell that Bucky didn’t view him with awe. To Bucky, Tony suspected he was just his eccentric, cranky boss. Which might be a problem that Tony never thought he would have. If, and it was a big if, if he was going to pursue Bucky, how to get him to see Tony in a more favorable light? Tony hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to appear charming with Bucky.

That was when Tony started cursing out loud, causing a ruckus in the meeting since it was during his least favorite board member’s presentation on SI’s financial forecasts. Smoothing over his misstep, avoiding Bucky’s look of concern, Tony slumped back into his chair. How had he gone from afraid of falling in love to planning his seduction? Sneaking a glance at Bucky, who lifted an eyebrow in inquiry, Tony gave him a slight headshake, and turned back to the meeting. Even just glancing at Bucky made his stomach settle and joy fill his thoughts. He was doomed.

* * *

* * *

Doomed was definitely the word. Tony had charmed countless people into his bed, and onto the kitchen table, and into the bathroom stall. You name it, he’d talked somebody into sex on it. Even with Pepper, there had been very little wooing; it felt like mutual love was just there when he turned around one day.

All his attempts at wooing her after they were together had ended in strawberry allergies and gigantic, stuffed rabbits, which were better not thought of or mentioned at this point.

With Bucky, he figured upping his flirting game would do the trick. They were both guys, plus, he was an ace flirter. He could charm the pants off a nun. Well, the habit off a nun. He could get a nun naked, is what he was saying.

So he flirted. Stopped bitching Bucky out. Complimented Bucky’s brains and looks. Whistled at him when he wore his new suits. Winked at Bucky when he was caught admiring Bucky’s ass. Bucky didn’t react the way Pepper did before they got together. She had rolled her eyes, and shot disdainful looks Tony’s way. Bucky also didn’t react the way a model or hot-shot advertising exec had ever reacted. They would smile coyly, and sidle closer, and run their hands up Tony’s arm.

Which isn’t to say Bucky didn’t flirt back.

He flirted back, _hard._ He had a ready quip to offer with good humor. He would twirl in his new suits with a wide smile giving Tony the full effect. Tony got winks back when he admired Bucky’s ass. But Tony couldn’t sense any _intent_ behind it. Bucky just acted as if it was all a fun game they were now playing. He didn’t even seem to expect a tumble in the hay and a payoff the way some of Tony’s previous assistants had (and he totally used the word assistant with air quotes). 

Tony figured he just needed to be patient, and Bucky would fall at his feet, though. He didn’t realize how hopeless his actions were until the SI holiday party. Pepper’s people had an unused floor in Stark Tower festooned with garlands and twinkling lights, and had even had a kitchen built off to the side for the catering crew. Full bars were set up in three corners, and a live band played holiday classics. There was a dance floor, and big round tables with chairs off to the side. 

Tony had promised to make an appearance, but he had totally been lying when he said that. He hadn’t counted on Bucky and Pepper working together, though. With them tag-teaming him, he was wrangled into a clean outfit, and was hitting the party barely an hour into it. He tried to head to the bar, but Pepper said loudly, “Why thank you, Tony, I would love to dance.”

Caught out by Pepper, and still unable to deny her anything, Tony took her arm and led her to the dance-floor. He said, “Not even a drink first? You’re being cruel, Pep.”

Pepper smoothly glided into his arms as the music swelled. As they waltzed around the floor, she smiled slyly at him, and quipped, “Just getting in while the getting isn’t drunk and disorderly.”

“Hey! I haven’t been drunk and disorderly since…, huh, I can’t remember.”

“Which I am deeply grateful for, but am not counting on forever.”

He smiled wryly at her. “Always a safe bet.”

The song ended, and she pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Try and have fun, but not too much. And don’t give Eriksson from R&D a hard time. It’s a holiday party. Don’t think I haven’t heard about the last departmental meeting.”

Tony led her to the side of the dance-floor, and pouted. “You’re trying to ruin all my fun.”

She just smiled a Mona Lisa smile, and said, “Always.”

They had ended up right next to Bucky, and in a fit of inspiration, Tony turned to him, and held out his crooked arm. “Dance?”

Bucky gave him a double-take, but then laughed delightedly. At the surprised, but pleased look on his face, Tony thought this was it. The flirting had finally coalesced into the moment. The moment they told their grandkids about. Or Pepper’s grandkids, someone’s grandkids, at any rate.

As the got onto the dancefloor, the song switched to something upbeat and swingy. And to Tony’s surprise, and Bucky’s obvious smug pleasure, Bucky killed it. He could swing dance like no one’s business. Even Tony got into it, letting Bucky dip him, and twirl him about with a smile on his face. They even got applause when the song ended, and both of them bowed, and Bucky’s face was suffused with happiness. It was all Tony could do not to kiss him.

Bucky pulled Tony into his embrace, Tony still thinking this is it, this is the moment, and Tony’s heart fluttered when Bucky pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, catching the side of his lip. 

But that’s where it all fell apart. 

Still grinning, Bucky said, “Thank you for this. I know that you flirt with everyone, but over the past couple of months you’ve helped me feel more like myself than I’ve felt since losing my arm. I used to flirt and go dancing all the time, but I felt too broken to do that anymore. And this isn’t just a thank you for the new prosthetic, although that is awesome, this is thank you for treating me just like everyone else.”

Bucky was thanking him for not having feelings for him, how ironic. With crystal clarity, Tony realized his mistake in flirting with Bucky. He was renowned for flirting with anyone who breathed. They hadn’t been moving towards intimacy over the past two months, they had been moving away from it. Whoever said honesty was the best policy could bite his ass. Fucking right-as-always bastards.

Tony headed right to the bar after that dance.

* * *

* * *

So, okay. After his horrible hangover, and thanking Pepper for getting him out of there before he picked up the hot blonde from the marketing department, he sat down in his workshop on Christmas day when Bucky was off, and looked around. 

He needed to regroup and reassess. He needed data. He said, “Jarvis, playback of Bucky’s first day in the workshop.”

After obsessively watching and rewatching Bucky’s months in the workshop working with him, Tony came to a couple startling conclusions. The first was that Bucky had no idea of Tony’s feelings. Bucky wasn’t hiding his feelings, nor was he trying to subtly let Tony down. Tony compared Bucky’s demeanor before and after Tony’s inner revelation and the beginning of Tony’s flirting, and there was barely any difference. Bucky was just happy to be there, and engage with Tony, the bots, and Jarvis.

The second was even more startling, but luckily less dispiriting. Bucky liked Tony the mechanic and Tony Stark the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist equally. Even Pepper had barely tolerated Tony’s Tony Stark-ness. She had loved Tony, he never doubted that, but he knew she was disdainful of the worst parts of him. On the other hand, Bucky’s tolerance and acceptance never withered. Even at Tony’s most obnoxious, Bucky didn’t blink. He didn’t even have any of those micro-expressions showing disdain or disgust. And Tony would know, he made Jarvis do a slow frame-by-frame scan of Bucky’s face when Tony was being his most obnoxious. Nothing more negative than fond exasperation showed in his expression.

Tony accepted another green shake from Dum-E, and thought about it. Bucky liked Tony, that was definitely shown, but could he love him? Outrageous flirting was obviously not the way to go, but how else was he to find out?

He could ask outright, but opening himself up that way was…, well, it wasn’t worse than torture (he would know), but if that was the best thing he could say about it, it didn’t seem all that great. 

He was still uncertain how to proceed by the time Bucky returned to work after the holiday, so in the end he decided to play it by ear, as always.

So he was being cool and collected when Bucky showed up with two coffees and a satchel strapped across his chest. He handed one coffee to Tony, and said, “Good morning. I wasn’t sure if you’d be around today.”

“And yet you still came prepared with coffee.”

“I know you pout when I don’t bring Little DeMarco’s coffee, and I didn’t mind drinking two, if it came to that.”

Bucky was smiling, and taking off the satchel. Tony drifted closer, since he was curious. Bucky usually just showed up with a billfold and phone. He wasn’t one to bring a bag to work. Bucky toyed with the buckle for a second, biting his lip. He was very obviously _not_ looking at Tony. Tony was even more intrigued now.

Before he could ask, Bucky slanted him a look, and unbuckled the satchel. “I got you something.”

Tony perked up. “Really?” People didn’t buy him things. They expected things from him.

“Yeah. I know you don’t need anything, but I thought you might like to have a reminder of the workshop when you’re not here.” He slid out a rectangular, flat package wrapped in festive wrapping paper. Tony unable to resist, made grabby hands, and Bucky smiled indulgently. He continued, “I know I told you Steve is an artist, but he’s totally amazing. I took some pictures of the workshop, which totally sucked and were blurry as hell so don’t worry about security, but he turned them into something perfect, as always.”

Tony was listening with only half an ear. He was too busy ripping the paper off to reveal a painting. It was… it actually was amazing. Tony was expecting a copy of a photograph after Bucky’s explanation, but this was different. He could clearly tell it was the workshop, but more than the physical space, this painting seemed to capture the vibrancy and vividness of Tony’s feelings about the workshop. Sections were blurry, but because things were speeding about, not because of a bad source photo. Other parts were crystal clear and sharp, like a technical document. It was complex, and even dare he say it, brilliant.

At a loss for a second, he finally looked at Bucky, and asked, “Your friend Steve made this?”

Bucky puffed up in pride. “It’s amazing isn’t it?”

“It is,” Tony replied. Bucky smiled wide, and even blushed a bit. He always had talked up Steve. Every other personal conversation with him revolved around Steve, which drove Tony nuts, so Tony had always thought Bucky was exaggerating how awesome Steve was, because it was obvious Bucky thought he hung the moon. He was totally wrong.

Bucky said, “I wish I could’ve made something for you myself, but as you know I’m not up to speed yet, and you really don’t need extra mechanical stuff, to be honest. So this instead.”

It suddenly hit Tony. “I didn’t get you anything.”

Waving a hand at him, Bucky said, “Pepper gave me a Christmas bonus. That’s present enough.”

“No, no, no, I insist on at least taking you for lunch. We can take the Ferrari. You’ll love it.”

Bucky nodded with a big smile that Tony was too in love with not to return fully. If anything that just made Bucky smile wider, and Tony hugged his painting to his chest, and turned towards his normal workbench to avoid kissing Bucky right then and there. It was a good moment, but not the moment, he could tell.

Tony made a reservation at a little Italian place out in Great Neck. Long enough of a drive to get some enjoyment out of it, but not so far that they would need most of the day. As Tony flew down the highway, they talked horsepower and engines, and it was one of the best rides of Tony’s life. He’d look over into Bucky’s beaming face, and there was nowhere he’d rather be.

Lunch was leisurely and just as engaging. He and Bucky never seemed to run out of things to talk about. They had work and the bots’ craziness, and Bucky boasting about Steve, and Tony boasting about Pepper and Rhodey. They only touched briefly on hot-button topics like military service or weapons, but it was enough to have Tony feel like they were forging a deeper connection between them. By the time they left, Tony was stuffed, but happy. 

As usual, the paparazzi were crowded outside. Tony just rolled his eyes, put on his sunglasses, and told Bucky, “Follow me.”

Things were going fine one second and then not the next. Tony was providing soundbite quips for the paparazzi’s questions, and they were making steady progress through the crowd when Bucky yelled something, and was then spinning Tony behind him. There was the sharp rap of a gun, and then Bucky was slumping into Tony’s arms with his dead weight bringing them both to the ground.

The crowd was panicking, shouting and yelling, but all Tony could focus on was Bucky’s shocked face as well as the blood seeping between Tony’s fingers where he was holding Bucky. Carefully rolling Bucky off him, Tony pressed his balled-up jacket into the entry wound on Bucky’s back, and then called 911. 

He felt like the crowd was coming through in waves. He was so out of it he couldn’t figure out how out of it he was. Was he hyperventilating? Did anyone catch the shooter? Before he figured anything out, things were suddenly fast again, and sound came rushing back. He could hear the sirens coming, and he realized he was whispering into Bucky’s ear, “Hold on, just hold on, I’ve got you, you’ve just got to hold on.”

Then the police were herding everyone away, and the paramedics were separating him from Bucky, and he tried to fight his way back to him, but the cop was holding him back, saying, “Let them work.”

Finally Tony slumped into the restraining arms like his wires were cut. All he could think was fuck the moment. Every moment was the moment.

* * *

* * *

Tony had to deal with the police and the press, so he couldn’t follow Bucky to the hospital until later that evening. They had caught the shooter. It was a mentally ill man who thought Tony was the devil or something like that. They sent him to an institution for evaluation as Tony’s statement was taken.

By the time Tony stopped by, Bucky was out of surgery, but also out cold. He sat for a while watching Bucky’s chest rise and fall. It was late when Pepper came by and dragged him home. She seemed to know how he felt without him saying anything, and gave him a long hug.

By the time Tony dodged the SI board and the press’ calls, and managed to get back to the hospital, Bucky was gone. He had checked out AMA. Tony ranted for a bit, but in the end, there was nothing to do except have Happy drive him to Brooklyn. Once they were outside a brownstone that had obviously been split into apartments, Tony told Happy to head home. Happy gave him a look, but just said, “Okay, boss.”

Tony sighed, and he straightened his shoulders. He could do this. He needed to do this. He wasn’t a coward. Besides there was nothing to worry about. Bucky was mostly fine by all the doctors’ accounts. He would be lucid and fine, and Tony would tell him how he felt. No problem. 

So he went up the stairs, and knocked on the right door. A tall, buff blond opened it, and Tony stared. Did he mention how buff the guy was? Seriously. You could bounce quarters off those bulging pecs and ripped abs.

In the background, he heard Bucky yell, “Who is it, Steve?”

Tony exclaimed, “You’re Steve?” From the way Bucky talked about him, he was expecting some tiny, asthmatic weakling, not this muscle-bound behemoth. Seriously, how many steroids did the guy take?

Steve rolled his eyes, and after glaring for a second more, finally stepped out of the doorway and waved Tony inside. He said, “It’s your boss.”

Bucky was leaning over the couch back, and he looked shocked. To Steve, he said, “Tony isn’t my boss. Pepper is.” Then he seemed to realize that Tony was actually in his apartment, because he blushed and said, “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here? You got shot protecting me, and then checked yourself out AMA. Only I’m allowed to do that!”

Petulantly, Bucky said, “It’s only a flesh wound.”

“It was not just a flesh wound! They had to dig it out of your side. You’re lucky it missed your lung. How on earth did you get up those stairs, by the way?”

“None of your business.” Now Bucky was pouting, and glaring at Steve.

Steve said, “Not my fault I was at class, Buck. I thought you would be reasonable, and actually, you know, stay in the hospital.”

“Oh my god, you crawled didn’t you? You could have reopened your wounds, and I don’t just mean the stitches holding your back together. You had internal damage. What is wrong with you?”

“I’ve had enough of hospitals for one lifetime.” Now Bucky was glaring at the both of them, and Tony didn’t know a safe way to diffuse this time-bomb. 

Luckily, Steve did. He put his hands on his hips, and replied sharply, “And I’m sure hospitals have seen enough of your surly attitude, but they still accept your dumb ass.”

Okay, then. Tony might not have said that exactly, in that particular tone, but it seemed to do the work, since Bucky deflated, and mumbled an apology to Steve, who nodded.

Tony did know what to do with a less recalcitrant Bucky though. He took out his phone, and started scrolling through his contacts. He said, “No worries. I’ll call my personal physician, and she’ll be here in half an hour. I might have to pay double for making her trek out to Brooklyn, but no need to thank me.”

As the phone started ringing, Bucky started complaining as Tony knew he would. Tony just spoke over him, biting out the words with extra emphasis. “No worries, it’s on me. Least I can do since you saved my life and all.” 

Remarkably, that shut Bucky up, although he still looked disgruntled. 

Tony talked to his physician, and gave her Bucky’s address, turning the call off with satisfaction. “It might be closer to forty-five minutes, but she’ll be here. Next order of business. Let me take a look at you.”

Tony got as close as possible to Bucky, who was still hunched over on the couch, and started pulling at his shirt to get it up. The bandage on his side was a wide, white patch, but before Tony could see further, Bucky was slapping at his hands, and saying, “Whoa, whoa, there! No need to get handsy!”

Tony reached for him again, despite Bucky’s slapping hands, and said, “There is every need to get handsy, and dammit, why are your abs also killer? It’s just not fair. I wear the suit, which weighs a ton, I work out, and get nothing as defined as this. What is this, steroid central?”

In a laughing voice, Steve was saying, “No one’s on steroids,” while Bucky had finally caught Tony’s hands in his, keeping Tony from getting his shirt fully off.

As their hands stilled, Tony looked into Bucky’s eyes, and quietly said, “You shouldn’t have gotten shot. I thought you were going to die.”

Emotions flickered across Bucky’s face, and he squeezed Tony’s hands. “I didn’t, but it would have been worth it.”

Tony said, “Nothing is worth you dying.” Tony glanced over, and could see the same fierce look on Steve’s face that he was sure was on his. Steve nodded at him, as if giving blessing, and then he disappeared down the hallway. Tony looked at Bucky again, and squeezed back. “Nothing is worth it. You are much too important to die.”

Consternation crossed Bucky’s face. He whispered, “I’m nobody. Just a jacked up security guard…”

Unable to let those words stand, unable to keep his feelings to himself a second more, Tony pressed a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips, stopping his words. Bucky’s eyes widened in shock, giving Tony time to say, “You are worth more than your job, which is Tony Stark’s assistant, not security guard, although by all accounts except Markham’s, you did that job admirably too. You are also in the small circle of people I love or have loved wholeheartedly, which used to just include Pepper, Rhodey, and Jarvis, both versions. Feel special, because you are.” Tony let out a hiccupping laugh, and let his fear show. “This is where you let me down gently, and describe your torrid love affair with Steve. Feel free to give details. Have you seen his abs too?”

Bucky let out his own watery laugh, and said, “Oh my god, for the last time, Steve and I aren’t dating. That would be gross.”

From the back hallway came a yell of, “Hey!”

Bucky just yelled back, “Shut up, punk!”

Tony could just make out Steve’s mumble back of, “Jerk,” but he didn’t take his eyes off Bucky’s face. Bucky looked fond, but Tony didn’t know if it was for him or Steve. As a broad smile spread across Bucky’s face, he laughed again and pressed his own kiss to Tony’s mouth. Holding there, he whispered, “Are you sure? There’s no take-backs in love.”

Having his answer, feelings swelling in his chest, Tony just said, “Definitely no take-backs,” and slanted his mouth to deepen the kiss.


End file.
